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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689813">Reliving The Past</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyNightingale/pseuds/SleepyNightingale'>SleepyNightingale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Poison [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Akira isn't apart of the PT, Alternate Universe - Twins, Amamiya Ren and Kurusu Akira Are Twins, Angst and Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Most of the listed characters are simply mentioned or referenced, Persona 5 Spoilers, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Ren is still the PT leader, Sorta was a vent writing honestly, This is all in Akira's perspective and such</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:20:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyNightingale/pseuds/SleepyNightingale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I spent the weekend at home again<br/>Drawing circles on the floor<br/>Tried to keep myself from hurting<br/>I don't know why anymore"</p><p>---</p><p>A vague recollection of a few memories.<br/>[In Collaboration with Herevard on tumblr]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Poison [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025064</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Reliving The Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First off, I wanna say this wouldn't be possible without the help of my beloved writing partner, Lacie (Herevard on Tumblr)! The last few months we have been building up a concept/story together which made this writing possible. In regards to that writing, it will be coming eventually! This is a fun little prequel writing that I thought I would do, and share until then. So big big shoutout to Lacie, send them some love if possible because they deserve it! With that being said, it's also why I haven't updated TUC in awhile, so readers of that I hope you can forgive me!</p><p>This writing contains references to torture/abuse, and death. It also contains quite the depressive spiral. So please be safe, don't read this if those topics are upsetting! </p><p>The summary contains lyrics from the song, "Why We Ever" by Hayley Williams. </p><p>Hope you guys enjoy this&lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He remembered. </p><p>The fractured memories came crashing down. It all felt like being hit with a bucket of freezing water. Now he stood there, trembling and breathing heavily. </p><p>He can <em> remember.</em> </p><p>The memories were sharp. Jagged. Shattered in his hands, and all he could do was stare in horror as blood rushed to the surface. Digging deeper and deeper with every faint movement. Tears dripped into the mix. Shuddering breaths followed. It was too much at once.</p><p>Too much. </p><p>               <em> Too much</em>. </p><p><b> <em>Too much</em>. </b> </p><p>He remembered. November 18th. Goro Akechi gave him his glove. No explanation. He remembered…</p><p>
  <em> "Not a word." </em>
</p><p>Hushed whispering before separation. An abrupt stumble back into the train car allowing enough time for the doors to shut. Preventing any further interaction between him and the detective. The utter confusion. The despair and desperation to grasp a meaning to it. Goro never looked back. </p><p>He—</p><p>Never did look back, did he? </p><p> </p><p><em> November 20th. </em> It was early. Ren was gone. Captured— Arrested. Heist gone wrong. 'Nothing to worry about'... Those words felt like a slap in the face. </p><p>The thieves were gathered in Leblanc's café area. What did they know that he didn't? Why did they hide it? Why didn't they tell him? </p><p>
  <em> Everyone—</em>
</p><p>lied to his face. </p><p>So much pain and fear swelled in his chest. Suffocating. No one seemed to want to break the silence. Morgana sat on the counter space in front of him, butting his head against his arms— His face. Insistent on providing comfort. </p><p><em> "Rescuing him will be more difficult if anything else happens. So again, don't make any careless moves. I </em> <b> <em>promise </em> </b> <em> I can do this. Wait for the good news."  </em></p><p>Good… news…</p><p>The good news that never came. </p><p>
  <b> <em>Liar.</em></b>
</p><p> </p><p><em> November 21st</em>. Ren was dead. </p><p>At least he was in the public eye. The great Phantom Thieves leader committed suicide under custody. </p><p>What—</p><p>A <em> joke.</em></p><p>Sae Niijima saved his life. Funny, given she was the previous target. Dr. Takemi somehow worked a miracle. Ren would be <em> okay, </em> but… he wouldn't ever be the same. The police practically <em> tortured </em> him. Bruises, cuts, drugs. <em> They took his right eye </em>. They didn't care. They were going to kill him anyways, weren't they? </p><p>The police didn't care. The—</p><p>—y didn't care. The Phantom Thieves <em> were </em> too infatuated with the success of their plan. Concern was thrown out, sure but hardly enough to feel meaningful. Ann Takamaki was uneasy. Morgana too. Were they the only ones that actually cared? </p><p>He remembered feeling nauseous. How could they treat this as a <em> success </em>. </p><p>There was no success here. Only tragedy. </p><p>Sickening.</p><p>             <em> Sickening</em>. </p><p>                           <b> <em>Sickening.</em></b></p><p> </p><p><em> December 14th</em>. Goro Akechi was—</p><p>A liar? A traitor? Nothing fit right. Nothing <em> felt </em> right. More nausea. How many more tears was he going to shed for him? Ren struggled. Trying to tell him what had happened. The truth of everything. The truth that everyone hid from Akira. </p><p>Ren wasn't usually so emotional. So evidently shaken up that Morgana wasn't even sure who he should be trying to comfort between the two of them. If he was honest, he was glad Morgana remained in his lap. The warmth and weight was… comforting.</p><p>But what did—</p><p>the glove mean? Why did Goro give it to him? Why did Goro even waste his <em> time </em> on him? If he was going to throw it all away for some bullshit revenge then why? Nothing could make sense of it. Some type of cruel sense of humor… </p><p>Did—</p><p>Did Akira ever mean <em> anything </em>to him? </p><p><em> Idiot </em> . <em> Why would you mean anything to him? Just another to exploit for information. Just another to—</em></p><p>Use. If Akira trusted him, then why wouldn't Ren? Akira, whose walls were built high enough to prevent anyone from slipping inside. </p><p>Walls built for protection.</p><p>Who could—</p><p>
  <em> love someone like you? A curse on anyone's lives. You're left in the dark for a reason.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> People </em>
</p><p>
  <em> would </em>
</p><p>
  <em> be  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> better  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> off </em>
</p><p>
  <em> without </em>
</p><p>
  <em> you.  </em>
</p><p>Goro Akechi was <em> dead. </em>Did everything he touch soon perish afterwards? Would that fate apply to Ren? The Thieves? </p><p>Was everyone he loved fated to <em> die </em>?</p><p>No, no… <em> Nononono. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> December 24th. </em>The Phantom Thieves have left. </p><p>Despite Masayoshi Shido's confession of crimes, the public seemed… undisturbed. That <em> wasn't </em> right. Why didn't they care? They should be <em> rioting </em>. Masayoshi Shido should be rotting in prison. </p><p>Yet no one cared. </p><p>The Thieves left to go to a place called Mementos. Everyone's palace. Could they really fix everything? Akira wasn't the only one uneasy. Sojiro Sakura, and Sae Niijima were too. All they could do was wait. </p><p>Waiting—</p><p>was <em> painful.</em></p><p>Alone in Leblanc's attic. Buzzing of the heater was vaguely comforting. The noises of the Café downstairs, too. The smooth feel of one leather glove grasped tightly in one hand, and a phone in another. </p><p>The glove that he—</p><p>couldn't let go of. The answers he was desperate for would never be answered. Yet he couldn't let go… because—</p><p>
  <em> What if…  </em>
</p><p>             <b> <em>What if…</em> </b></p><p>Tapping on the windows accompanied the buzzing. A distant bell ringing. </p><p>
  <em> Would things be better if he was still around? Takuto Maruki already knew about the Phantom Thieves so could he— Would he be able to… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> help?  </em>
</p><p>It was distant at first. A yelling. A calling. His name, and when answered he was brought to the outside. </p><p>Eyes widening at the sight of reality being <em> twisted</em>. </p><p>Blood was—</p><p>raining from the skies. </p><p> </p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Current Day.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There was—</p><p>A lingering presence. Creeping closer. A hunter stalking its prey. Akira's breath struggled. </p><p>
  <em> "Wh- What did...— What did you do? Why did you—…" </em>
</p><p>Why did you—</p><p><em> betray me</em>. </p><p>Sympathetic frown. An apology<em>? </em>It was almost—</p><p><em> funny. </em>A liar's glove felt more comforting than it had in the previous weeks. Squeezed tightly in a trembling fist. </p><p>Slow approach. More lies, and a hand reaching out. </p><p>
  <em> No.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Get away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>             Get away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                           Get away. </em>
</p><p>A quick shove before an abrupt sprint towards the door. A shout of his name, and a shout of another's name in his own voice. Why did he feel so much—</p><p><em> heavier. </em>One blink before a sudden collapse onto the ground. One wave of exhaustion after another. He had to—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> let go.  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again, thank you so much for reading! It means a lot. Anyone who reads, comments or even leaves a kudos- I really appreciate it. It genuinely means a lot to me, and Lacie. I hope you enjoyed this, and will hang on until the main course of this story comes out! </p><p>Until then you find me on Twitter (@SleepyNighty) and Tumblr (@sleepy-nightingale)<br/>and you can, of course, find my beloved Lacie on Tumblr (@herevard)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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